Daddy Penalty Swats
by Croup
Summary: Ichigo finally loses a fight to his father. What's the penalty for losing? An embarrassing bare-bottom spanking, just like when he was a kid. Warnings for language, nudity, and sexuality. Mention of one-sided IchigoChad.


"Wow, what a great body you've got, Chad," Ichigo said, undoing the buttons on his friend's shirt one by one. The exotic, dark-skinned muscles of Chad's chest popped out as the shirt came loose. The guy was a total stud. Big, juicy, pecs, and flawless abs . . .

Ichigo drank in the sight. "Damn, man! Hey, with how good-looking you are shirtless, I'll bet you look even better naked. What'd ya say, Chad?"

Chad grinned, and opened his mouth wide. "GOOD MORNING, ICHIGO!"

Ichigo blinked. "Huh? What'd you mean?"

"I said: GOOOD MORNINGGGG, ICHIGOOOO!"

Ichigo woke up from a perfectly pleasant dream, to his dad's feet smashing into his ribs.

"OOOHF!" he let out. His father had landed on him solidly, rousing him smartingly out of sleep. The man had also came perilously close to stomping on Ichigo's morning stiffy.

"You almost slept through your alarm!" his dad, Isshin, said energetically.

"Urgh . . . It's not even time for it to go off yet!" Ichigo shouted back, clutching his abs. He twisted around and kicked his dad off the bed. The man flew through the air and hit his head on a wall.

"I was saving it the trouble!" replied Isshin, immediately leaping to his feet. He settled into a fighting stance.

Ichigo growled as he looked at his infuriating father. The man was a menace, pure and simple. He was dressed in some brightly colored, flamboyant pajamas. They were unbuttoned at the chest, and Ichigo could catch glimpses of his father's fine chest-hair. He hadn't shaved yet that morning, either, and looked even stubblier than usual. For himself, Ichigo was wearing a pair of loose pajama pants and a t-shirt.

"You know . . . getting up like this every morning is really--" Ichigo charged at his dad. "--ANNOYING!"

They exchanged a quick series of blows. They seemed evenly matched . . . until Ichigo got his dad into a headlock, and slammed him down. "Take that, bastard!"

The teenage boy got up and angrily adjusted himself, while his father groaned groggily on the floor. Score another win on his scorecard. But damn, that stupid fight had interrupted a nice wet-dream. He still had a bit of a boner from it. Who'd been in it, again? There'd been Chad, and--and Chad?

He suddenly shook his head in confusion. Wait a second--a boner? Why the hell was he getting off on sexy dreams about a friend in the first place? One of his GUY friends? That didn't make any sense. It wasn't like he was gay or anyth--

In that instant of surprise introspection, Ichigo let down his guard--and Isshin seized the opportunity. Suddenly leaping up from the floor, the rugged man made a surprise attack, kneeing his son in the back. Ichigo shouted out in pain, and turned to retaliate with a punch. But Isshin had ducked down to dodge the blow, sweeping Ichigo's legs out in the process. Before Ichigo hit the floor, his father hit him with a fierce upper-cut, knocking him straight into the air.

Ichigo grimaced as he was knocked to the other side of the room. Ow. At least he'd land on the bed. Not something hard and painful, like the floor, or the bureau, or . . . his dad's lap?

Somehow, Isshin had crossed the room faster than Ichigo, and gotten set up on his son's bed. Ichigo had landed face-down, straight across his dad's knees.

"Hahah! I win this time!" Isshin crowed. He secured his son expertly, grabbing the teenager's arms and restraining them behind his back. "You know what that means."

Ichigo lay on his dad's muscled thighs, stunned. "Huhh? What're you talking . . . "

"It means . . . " Isshin's voice turned serious. "Daddy penalty swats." He snaked a hand over to the seat of his son's pajamas.

"Wha--?" Ichigo quickly came back to himself when he felt his father's hands inside his pants. "Oh no. Don't you dare, you bast--!" Ichigo started to protest, but it was too late. His pants were yanked down to just below his ass, and suddenly he was mooning his bedroom ceiling.

His father wasted no time, and it was barely a second later that Ichigo felt the first hearty smack land. "Ah! Shit!" he yelped, as a handprint formed on his right buttock.

"Damnit, dad! Not this again!" Ichigo said, trying to fight his way clear off that lap. Another swat landed, this time on the left cheek. "Ow!"

"You know the rules!" Isshin said as he slapped his son's naked butt. Ichigo's ass was a tight, round thing--all compact muscle. It wobbled slightly as it absorbed the smacks. "You lose, you get the penalty!"

Karin looked up incredulously from her morning cereal. "Is dad spanking Ichigo _again_?"

"Yes, I think so," Yuzu said, calmly sipping her tea.

"On his bare butt?"

"It sounds like it."

The tomboy clenched a fist in the air. "That damn pervert dad of ours . . . "

Ichigo gritted his teeth and tried to kick the man. "Ow! Bastard! I'm too old for this!"

Laughing, his father blocked his leg and kept up a steady, stinging rhythm. "You're never too old for a spanking! Punishment and discipline are what keeps boys in line! If I don't give you plenty of spankings, I'd be a bad father!"

"But what the hell am I being punished for?" Ichigo yelled.

Isshin pushed the hem of Ichigo's t-shit up his back, exposing a tight line of muscle, and also an unencumbered view of red butt. Isshin grinned, and continued spanking a painful beat. He went back and forth between Ichigo's tense, clenching buns. "This makes me remember you as a boy, Ichigo. You used to be so much cuter, back then . . . "

"How the hell does getting spanked make me cute? Ow! Quit it already, bastard! Aoowww!"

"This is just how discipline works in the Kurosaki family!" Isshin asserted.

Ichigo twisted his ass all over his dad's lap. "But--ow!--you never spank Karin, or Yuzu! Ouch!"

Isshin was affronted. "Of course not! They're my only precious daughters! Girls should be treated like delicate flowers!" he said, while blasting his son's ass with burning swats.

"Oww! Your logic makes no sense, bastard!"

His father grinned manfully. "You'll understand when you're older."

"LIKE HELL I WILL!"

Meanwhile, in Ichigo's closet, the stuffed animal form of Kon was peeking out at the father-son bonding. He wept in true wretched anguish. "Why do I have to watch something like this happen to Ichigo, instead of a hot mama, like Nee-san?" he asked, hot tears streaming down his face. He thought of how wonderful it would be to see Rukia over that lap, instead of the brutish Ichigo.

He sighed. "Oh well. I'll probably still be able to make some cash with this," he said, and went back to filming. Good thing Ichigo kept an old handcorder in his closet.


End file.
